Astronomy Tower
by hevaann
Summary: From 'A Series of Drarry Clichés'


**A Series of Drarry Clichés **

_This was written as one of a collection, based on scenes and scenarios that always turn up in Harry/Draco slash. I am open to new suggestions._

A Series of Drarry Clichés_ was originally created for my best friend _Jennie Wilson_. Usually I only have to open my mouth to make her laugh, but these were written to make her smile._

_I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. I just stick them in awkward, and predictable, situations. _

**Astronomy Tower**

Ron was a breakfast person. He piled his fried eggs on his toast, coated them in ketchup and jugged down half a pint of orange juice.

"What?" He asked; mouth full and spitting.

"Disgusting," commented Hermione, shaking her head and returning to her cereal.

Harry hadn't noticed. Harry didn't really care. This was the day when they all packed up and went home for Christmas and he stayed in the castle by himself, with nothing but homework and insomnia for company.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, as her friend rose from the table.

"I'm not hungry," Harry muttered, stalking out of the Great Hall.

As he climbed the many steps to the astronomy tower, Harry wondered, not for the first time, if it would really matter if he threw himself off. It would do Voldermort a favour for starters. Of course then everybody else would blame him, especially if he really was the only one who could kill him.

But why should it be his responsibility for pity's sake? He was little more than a kid, and yet the future of the magical world rested on his shoulders. He sighed heavily, more than just physically tired, as he pushed open the door to the tower room and clambered up to sit on one of the window sills, his head in his hands.

A few minutes passed, and then – yes, there it was again; the sound of someone trying to be quiet as they ascended the stairs. Harry drew his wand from his pocket and waited. There was a creek near the top step.

"Do I need to wave a white flag so you don't attack me?" Came a drawl from behind the wall.

"Malfoy?"

The blonde came out with his hands in the air, wand in full view. Harry didn't lower his.

"I'm not here to hurt you, if I was I would have brought a posy; I like an audience."

Harry smiled despite himself, "Yeah, I'd noticed." Not taking his eyes off the Slytherin, he settled back into the curve of the window.

Malfoy indicated to the stairs behind him, "It's a bloody long way to come to be by yourself."

"Well obviously it hasn't worked, has it?" Harry snapped.

"Just because you're stuck here for Christmas doesn't mean you have to feel sorry for yourself." Malfoy had tucked his wand back into his robes. "Some of us may _want _to stay here."

"What; all that love is too much for you?" Asked Harry, sarcastically.

"Look, Potter, not all of us get to go home to loving families – you of all people should know that."

"Oh yeah – Harry's an orphan. I was wandering when you would get round to that." The Griffindor swung his legs round and out of the window, turning his back on Malfoy; half hoping the blonde might push him out.

"You might fall sitting like that, you complete prick."

"What's it to you?" Harry mumbled into the air as he began to lean forward.

In a flash, Malfoy had rushed over to the window and pulled the boy down into a pile on the floor.

"What did you have to go and do that for?" Harry asked, trying to escape from the taller boy's grasp.

"I don't really want to watch you kill yourself."

"Leave then." Spat Harry.

Malfoy raised his hand, and Harry expected to be docked one. Instead the Slytherin ran his pale fingers through Harry's dark hair.

"Things can't be that bad, Potter."

Harry found he was blinking back tears. "Let me go Malfoy." He sighed, not wanting to cry in front of his enemy. Malfoy just adjusted himself so that Harry was cradled in his lap.

"Malfoy..." Harry began.

"Shut up." Malfoy responded, pulling Harry up towards him and holding him as the boy began to cry.

Harry had _never _been held like this. And by Malfoy of all people. But he was too tired to pull away; too defeated to put up a fight.

Once the tears had begun to draw to an end, Malfoy – Malfoy! – kissed him gently on the forehead and rested his head on Harry's. "I really don't want to go home Potter." He whispered.

They sat like this for several minutes before Harry, shaking himself free, stood up and pulled Malfoy to his feet. The blonde reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. Instead of flinching, Harry raised an eyebrow quizzically. Malfoy winked and swirled it about his head.

"Is that what I think it is?" Harry asked sceptically, looking up.

"Mistletoe," Malfoy replied, placing his fingers on Harry's chin and bringing the boy's face back down to plant a chaste kiss on his lips, "Merry Christmas Potter."

Harry smiled, for the first time in days, and wrapping his arms around the other boy, kissed him back. Kissed him like they had forever, kissed him like they could fight fate.


End file.
